Not the Same
by Jak Pickens
Summary: Bruce seeks out Selina at the Sirens Club, but her pointed words and lack of remorse finally get to him, sending him off the edge where only she can pull him back. (5x05) (Night-of-Episode-Oneshot)


**A/N: Whew…that was one hell of an episode. A little sad from a BatCat perspective, but let's be real. Bruce is never gonna give up on her, no matter how hard she tries to push him away. They are the Bat and the Cat after all. Anyways, here's my Night-of-Episode-Oneshot. Hope you enjoy!**

 **Not the Same**

Bruce made his way into the Sirens Club amongst stares and whispers.

It wasn't his first time in the club, not by a long shot, but it'd been quite some time since he'd visited the parlor. At one point, he'd been a regular at the club. That all felt so long ago…he barely recognized himself from back then.

He kept his eyes set in front of him, searching for a certain familiar face.

He found one, just not the one he'd been looking for.

"Barbara!" he called. The noise died down drastically as every person in the club turned to look at him.

Barbara whipped around, an annoyed expression on her face. She glanced at the DJ, raising her eyebrows as if asking, 'Did I tell you to stop?' The music started back up as Barbara made her way up to him.

"What do you want, kid?" she asked, giving him a look as if he was some dead rodent the cat dragged in.

Speaking of cats, "I'm looking for Selina," he told her.

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Well you could've just said that. Didn't have to come in all broody-like." She nodded off to a corner booth, of which Bruce was very, very familiar with.

He clenched his jaw. Selina was sat there, surrounded by strangers, shot glasses all over the table in front of them.

Barbara took a shot from a waiter and shouted over the crowd, "To Selina Kyle, the killer of Jeremiah Valeska!"

The occupants roared in approval as Selina was handed yet another shot.

As she went to take it, she froze.

Their eyes met for the first time and he saw her confident facade waver for half a moment.

Then, she glanced away and took the shot glass.

Bruce shook his head. He couldn't judge her. He'd done the same thing not a year ago, drowning his pain in alcohol and undesirable company. The only difference, he wouldn't let her fall as far as he did. He'd make her see…

Instead of approaching her, he made his way over to the bar and asked for a light whisky in a shot glass.

He patiently waited. Over the years that he'd known Selina, he'd learned that it turned out better if she approached him than vice versa.

He knew her too well. She would break first, especially in their respective positions.

Sure enough, her curiosity overpowered her will to ignore him.

Slowly, she strolled towards the bar, sliding into the stool adjacent to him and asking the bartender for a shot.

She acted as though he didn't exist, keeping her eyes planted firmly on the window behind the bar. He apparently had the same strategy, firmly ignoring her.

After a full minute of silence, Selina finally broke. "This isn't your scene, B," she lulled calmly.

He didn't respond immediately, keeping his eyes on his drink. He scoffed. "Funny, I didn't think it was yours, either."

She shrugged. "I'm celebrating."

"Yes, Selina, I can see that," he stated coldly.

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, don't you go acting all high and mighty with me. I seem to remember you doing this, too."

"And I seem to remember you being pissed at me for it, so why would I not be the same for you?" Bruce responded. Finally, he turned to her, meeting her hazy eyes. "Selina, I'm worried about you."

She scoffed, turning back to her drink. "You know, Bruce: that means absolutely nothing to me."

"I know," he told her. "But that doesn't matter to me."

She shook her head. "Bruce Wayne, Gotham's own knight in shining armor. Tell me, what makes you so determined on 'saving me'?"

"I owe you," Bruce replied.

"You're gonna have to be more specific than that," she retorted.

"You saved my life," he stated, causing her to momentarily pause. He took the opportunity and continued, "You were always there for me. I pushed you away, but you didn't give up on me. Now, you're hurting and you're pushing me away, so I'm not gonna give up on you." He took her hand and looked her in the eye. "I'm here because you're worth saving, Selina."

She stared at him. Some part of her wanted this, him to come after her, to understand what she'd been going through. But she didn't want saving. She didn't _need_ saving.

"Bruce," she started slowly. "I was in the alleyway the night your parents were killed. I watched them get shot. And I did nothing," she told him, tears starting to well up in her eyes. Maybe they were just from the alcohol. "I didn't call for help, I didn't yell for him to stop, I just watched."

"Selina," he started, taking both of her hands in his own. "it wasn't your fault. You were just a scared kid."

She shook her head, tears streaming down her face now but a small smile dancing on her lips. "No, Bruce. _You_ were the scared little kid," she told him. "I didn't do anything because _I didn't care_." She scoffed, continuing, "I didn't help you because it didn't matter to me. So I don't know what makes you think that we're the same because we aren't. So stop acting like we are."

And with that she stood from the bar, taking down another shot, first, and then waltzed back over to the dance floor.

Bruce took a hard look at his drink, pain eating away at his resolve.

He threw it back and asked the bartender for another one, but something stronger this time.

An hour passed as Selina danced around, trying to drown out the little voice in her head with booze. And it was all going pretty well, until she noticed a small crowd gathered around the corner booth where she'd been sitting earlier.

She shoved away the guy she'd been dancing with and tried to see over the wall of people all cheering and shouting at someone to keep taking shots.

Finally, she worked her way through the crowd and got a good look at him.

She had a vivid, unsettling flashback to a year or so prior. Bruce had sat in that same booth, both arms around a different girl, completely wasted as he drank his life away.

This felt eerily similar, if a bit worse.

His features lit up when he saw her, a lazy grin sliding across his face. "Cat!" he called, attempting to stand up on the coffee table in front of him. He wobbled at first, but regained his balance, raising a shot glass into the air. "I'd like to make a toast!" he announced, wrangling in the crowd. "To Selina Kyle, you've always been _soooo_ beautiful. But don't let her fool you!" he told his audience with a knowing smile and a wink. "She's not just a pretty face. She's vicious!" The crowd cheered. "Cunning!" Another roar. "Stone-cold!" The audience went ballistic. He motioned for them to quiet down. "But most of all, she's my friend. To Cat!"

"To Cat!" the small crowd echoed.

Bruce threw back the drink and stepped down off of the table towards her, only a few inches in between them. The smell of the alcohol in his breath stung her nostrils. However tipsy she was, he was clearly wasted.

He took her hands in his and told her, "Come on, Cat, let's go dance…"

She allowed herself to be dragged off to the dance floor. He pulled her in close and she had to resist cringing.

This wasn't him. No matter how much alcohol she'd drunken, she could recognize that.

"The hell's wrong with you?" she asked.

He cocked his head to the side. "Whadoyamean?" he slurred. "It's a _party_. _Your_ party." He took the sides of her face in his hands and told her, "You've never looked more–" he hiccupped, "-more beautiful."

Then he kissed her.

And, shamelessly, she kissed him back, deepening it.

They eventually made their way over to a corner where they continued to kiss passionately.

She refused to let herself think, instead focusing only on the kiss. No matter the implications or the situation.

Their hands and tongues roamed free, both invested in this moment and this moment alone.

Selina would've been content to stay that way forever had she not gotten a tap on the shoulder. She broke the kiss momentarily, hoarsely whispering to him, "One sec," before turning to see who had the balls to interrupt them.

Barbara stood there, a knowing smirk on her face. "Photographer's here," she told Selina, taking her by the arm. She turned to Bruce and told him, "She'll be back in a moment."

With that, Barbara dragged her off to take pictures, marking the day that Gotham had celebrated the killer of Jeremiah Valeska.

Killer…she was a killer now.

Sure, she'd killed before, but her title had always been thief. Cat-burglar. But now, she was a killer.

It was an odd thought.

Finally, when the flashes of the camera stopped, she started towards the corner where Bruce had been standing.

He was gone.

She did a quick scan of the Club, but Bruce was nowhere to be found.

However, she had a gut feeling she knew where he was.

The cold Gotham air hit her like a brick wall. The rooftop, the one that he'd first confessed his feelings for her on, the one that they'd reconciled on over a year ago.

She associated the place with him, with some of her best memories of him.

The door had been propped open, and, sure enough, there he was, standing on a raised ledge that loomed over an eight story drop.

He walked back and forth, arms outstretched, slowly getting closer and closer to the edge.

"You probably shouldn't do that," she announced.

He didn't even flinch. "Why?" he asked.

"Well, you've had quite a few drinks tonight," she told him.

He shrugged. "True, but so have you."

"I'm not the one standing over an eight story drop."

"What was that?" he called. "I can't hear you. You'll have to join me."

She rolled her eyes and climbed up onto the ledge with him.

He smiled.

Then, everything went horribly, horribly wrong.

His plant foot slipped just as he raised his other foot out over the chasm.

Time slowed down. She saw the slowly growing look of recognition and fear on his face as his body slowly dropped. His arms flailed out to catch himself, but there was nothing to grab onto.

She reached out, gripping his collar as he nearly plummeted to his death. He got his hands on the ledge and she helped him pull himself back out of the chasm, collapsing onto the solid ground of the rooftop.

They were both breathing heavily.

Then, his face turned from panic to complete calm in a matter of milliseconds, the look of drunkenness being replaced by complete sobriety. He grinned at her, saying, "I knew you cared," as if the whole thing had been a part of his plan…

"You…" she started.

He stood up, calmly brushing off his hands on his pants before offering to help her up.

She shook her head. "You… You weren't drunk."

He nodded. "I wasn't drunk. And even if I was, I wouldn't have fallen. You were the one who taught me how to balance, after all." He smirked. "But still, thanks for saving me. Now I owe you double."

"You…you…you son of a-"

He held up his hands in surrender and told her, "I just had to show you and this was the best I could come up with."

"Show me what?" she asked pointedly. "That you're a complete idiot? I already knew that!"

He smirked. "No, to show you that you're a good person. That you would risk yourself for someone else's skin. You're not like me, Selina," he told her. "We are not the same. But at least we have that in common."

"So, all of this, has been what?" she asked. "A test?"

He nodded. "Pretty much, yeah."

She shook her head. "You're an idiot," she told him, finally accepting the hand he'd been offering to help her up. She paused. "What if I hadn't caught you?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I probably would've died. Now, come on. We don't need alcohol to have a good time, do we?"

 **A/N: Hope you enjoyed my little drabble. It was a lot less serious than most of Oneshots I do, but I needed something a bit light-hearted, especially after this episode. Anyways, thanks for reading and if you have any comments, questions, or critiques, please review! Thanks for reading and ciao for now!**


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